


Beg for more

by iwaizumemes (skytramp)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fisting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5762023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/iwaizumemes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Yahaba is on his elbows and knees, ass in the air and head propped up on a pillow. “How many times do I have to tell you? I can take it.” </p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Beg for more

**Author's Note:**

> SWAG fill, originally prompted on hqkink [here](http://hqkink.dreamwidth.org/1761.html?thread=123617#cmt123617).

“Are you really sure this is what you want?” Kyoutani asks, and he sounds more than a little unsure.   
  
Yahaba is on his elbows and knees, ass in the air and head propped up on a pillow. “How many times do I have to tell you? I can take it.”   
  
Kyoutani’s hand is on his lower back and he’s already two fingers deep in Yahaba’s ass when this sudden doubt overcomes him. “Are you--” He begins to ask again and Yahaba shoves himself back against Kyoutani’s fingers.   
  
“Yes!” Yahaba says, and it’s half answer-half moan. “Please, Kentarou, _please_.” He begs and he knows Kyoutani can’t say no to that voice.   
  
He puts more lube on his fingers, because, when they talked about this, that was the main thing Yahaba had stressed and Kyoutani was taking it to heart. He pushes three fingers inside and slows his movements.   
  
“Fuck me with them, come on!” He commands, and shifts his hips again to push back. Kyoutani makes an annoyed noise but listens, thrusting his fingers in and out and spreading them apart, making Yahaba moan against the pillow.   
  
“Wow,” Kyoutani says, and it’s half under his breath so Yahaba hardly hears him over his own moans and the quiet squelching noises of lube in his ass.   
  
“Wow what?” He asks.   
  
Kyoutani fucks him harder with his fingers, spreading and curling and Yahaba almost forgets his own question with how wide he’s spreading his legs and holding himself steady.   
  
“You really are a cockslut.” Kyoutani says and Yahaba moans. He sounds embarrassed when he says it but it’s just so earnest and Yahaba can’t say it’s a lie.   
  
“I didn’t say I wanted your,” he takes a whiny breath, “ _cock_ in me, just your hand.”   
  
Kyoutani doesn’t laugh but he huffs a little breath and Yahaba knows he’s amused. “Keep going, another one.” Yahaba says after another few seconds.  
  
“A-”   
  
“If you say ‘are you sure’ I’m going to strangle you after this.”   
  
Kyoutani pulls out his fingers and opens the lube again, coating most of his hand with it. He starts with three fingers again, just a few thrusts before he pushes in his pinky and Yahaba moans at the stretch of it. It’s not the most he’s had in him, he’s done enough experimenting that he knows that Kyoutani’s fist is entirely plausible.   
  
“Did I hurt you?” Kyoutani asks and Yahaba shakes his head.   
  
“No, god no, keep going, fuck.”   
  
Kyoutani seems less hesitant now, or more happy to believe what Yahaba says, because he doesn’t hesitate to keep thrusting in, squeezing his fingers together into the smallest circumference. His other hand moves up Yahaba’s back, sliding along his spine until it’s between his shoulder blades and pushing Yahaba’s face further into the pillow.   
  
“Tell me when.” Kyoutani says and Yahaba just moans in response.  
  
It finally feels good, really good, the type of size that Yahaba needs to get off and he’s tempted to come right then, to just stroke himself to completion and untie this knot burning in his gut. When he starts to move his hand down, running it down his chest and stomach, Kyoutani curls his fingers and Yahaba feels a kiss in the middle of his back.   
  
“You don’t want to get off yet.” Kyoutani says and damn if that doesn’t almost undo him right then.   
  
“I’m ready, go, please, do it.” Yahaba whines and he closes his hand in a fist and pushes it against his stomach in an attempt to subdue his urge.   
  
Kyoutani pulls entirely out and in the few second pause between the lack of sensation and when he hears the lube open again he imagines what Kyoutani is seeing: the tight hold of his ass, gaping and dripping with lube, still pink but all stretched and waiting for more. Yahaba groans at the thought.   
  
The lube pops open and then Kyoutani’s fingers are back inside him, just a couple, sloppy and dragging at the edges of his hole, stretching and pulling it downward like he’s playing with it.   
  
“Just fuck me, god, Kentarou, fuck me with your fist.” Yahaba says and he wiggles his hips side to side to better position his knees on the mattress. He strokes his cock once, just lightly and bites into the pillow so maybe Kyoutani won’t notice.   
  
He switches from two fingers to three, though Yahaba can hardly even feel the stretch anymore until Kyoutani purposely spreads his fingers and pushes against the sides. He’s moving fast enough that Yahaba doesn’t have time to focus on anything but the feeling in his ass, and he’s holding his cock with one distracted hand.   
  
Kyoutani skips the build up, going straight from three fingers to as much of his hand as he can fit at once. Yahaba can feel the stretch where his rim is pulling over the outside of Kyoutani’s thumb knuckle, the edge of his palm, squished and contorted as he steadily pushes inside.   
  
“Are you okay?” Kyoutani asks, but he doesn’t stop pushing, and Yahaba’s moans must be coherent enough an answer because he doesn’t ask again, he just pushes. It’s so wide now, so big, Yahaba feels like he’s being torn in half but in the best way, he wants so much more.   
  
It hurts now, it hurts a lot and Yahaba knows he’s crying and the pillowcase is wet under his face, but he’s stroking his cock, too, and moaning out sobs as Kyoutani pushes his hand into him. Part of him wants to yell stop, to give up and whimper that he can’t take it, but as soon as he’s going to say something the stretch stops and he can feel the muscles of his rim quivering as they suck around Kyoutani’s wrist.   
  
“Yes, yes, yes.” Yahaba sobs and Kyoutani’s free hand is rubbing circles against Yahaba’s back.   
  
“You’re okay.” Kyoutani says, and it’s weirdly sweet and if Yahaba wasn’t so overstimulated he would make a joke about it. He nods a little instead, agreeing.   
  
Kyoutani hasn’t moved his hand since it was fully inside but now Yahaba can feel his fingers, so deep and full, moving and pushing against him.   
  
“Wow,” Kyoutani says again, and Yahaba is sure this time it’s about what he’s feeling, not about Yahaba’s reactions alone. “Should I move?”   
  
“Yeah, _yes_.”   
  
Kyoutani listens, and pulls back his fist, just until his rim is stretching again, pulling wide to accommodate the width of his hand, and then back in. Yahaba strokes his cock fast now, much faster than Kyoutani is moving.   
  
“Fuck,” Yahaba groans, “I’m going to come, I’m--” His words trail off and Kyoutani keeps moving, slowly, in then out, in then out.   
  
Yahaba comes with a cry, and the way his muscles clench as Kyoutani pulls out, simultaneously with his orgasm makes Yahaba scream and arch his back even further.   
  
When he comes down, twitching and collapsed against the sheets Kyoutani isn’t even touching him anymore, and the excess lube is running in rivers down the back of his thighs, leaking freely from his gaping ass.   
  
“Are you okay?” Kyoutani asks, and Yahaba just blinks at him, trying to clear the tears from his eyelashes. Kyoutani leans over him to kiss his forehead, pushing the hair out of his eyes. “I’ll be right back.” He says.   
  
Yahaba isn’t sure how long he’s gone, only that he comes back with a mug almost too large to hold in one hand and he brings the steaming drink to Yahaba’s face. He takes a sip and finds it’s hot chocolate, burning his tongue but it tastes good.   
  
“You know,” Kyoutani says, and he sounds almost wistful, “you really looked like such a goody two shoes with that haircut, that’s good boy hair.” He ruffles Yahaba’s hair with the hand not supporting the mug.   
  
“Are you touching my dishes with your ass hand?” Yahaba asks.


End file.
